


Pushing Daisies

by dontwatchmechange



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: M/M, Mental Institutions, Suicide Attempt, Trigger warnings:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:41:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24362224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontwatchmechange/pseuds/dontwatchmechange
Summary: Evan swears he didn't try to kill himself, but no one's buying it - no one but Connor.
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Comments: 11
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

"You can't bring anything with a string," said the EMT in the back of the ambulance where Evan Hansen was strapped down, leaving his newly casted arm even more motionless than it otherwise would have been.

"But I need my shoelaces," argued Evan. "How else will my shoes stay on?"

"A lot of folks don't wear shoes. You'll have non-slip socks."

"Look, this is all just a misunderstanding," Evan tried for what felt like the hundredth time - the 911 operator, his mother, and the emergency room staff had all failed to believe him. "I'd just gotten off my shift as a junior ranger, I felt like climbing a tree, and I grabbed a bad branch. I fell."

The EMT closed her eyes. "Evan, it might not seem like it now, but you're going to come out of this better. Someday, things are going to work out for you. You just have to give it a chance."

"You don't understand," Evan repeated. "I don't need this."

"Then try to learn from it anyway," she said softly. "Because even if you didn't let go of that branch on purpose, you've got a long history of mental illness, and this will still be good for you."

"Just anxiety."

"It's bad anxiety, Evan. You need help. Look, we're here."

Evan could barely make out the sign for Oak Park Behavioral Health Center through the ambulance windows.

"Are there oaks here?" asked Evan. "I like white oaks, but other oaks are fine, too."

"It's just a name, kiddo. I don't think you'll be outdoors much."

Evan got wheeled into the center, past the prying eyes of what few nurses were awake to supervise. What a terrible way to make a first impression. Not that he knew many good ways.

He was wheeled into a small, grey room with two beds, a window, and a bathroom with a shower, everything dreary and dull and completely suicide-proofed. A boy about his age, with short, curly hair and a particular freckle on his nose, sat up in the far bed. "Oh, I get a new roommate, do I?"

"Yes, Jared," said some doctor, someone Evan didn't know but was instantly grateful to because she unstrapped Evan from his gurney. "Jared Kleinman, this is Evan Hansen."

"Broken arm," noted Jared. "So not a pills guy."

"Jared," warned the doctor.

"I fell out of a tree," said Evan impatiently.

"I'll let you two get some sleep," said the doctor. "Jared, boundaries."

"Of course, doctor," he said, waiting for the door to close before continuing to talk to Evan. "Must've been today, right? How far did you fall?"

"Forty feet," said Evan.

"Yeah, that's not gonna be enough," said Jared.

"I wasn't trying to kill myself," said Evan again.

"Interesting!" said Jared. "Denial. Well, I'll tell you how to get out of here. I've seen people leave in just seventy-two hours if they play by the rules AND convince the doctors they're not out for their own necks."

Play by the rules. Play by the rules. "What rules?"

"Oh, just whatever they tell ya. They say jump, you say how high."

"Sounds miserable."

"Why do you think I'm still here?"

Evan crashed his head into his pillow and tried to sleep off the dull pain in his arm.

\--

He was up early the next morning. He never slept late. He left his room at exactly six in the morning and found when he went out to the main seating area that someone was already there.

"They do their best to get me to sleep at night and do sunshine activities during the day, but it just doesn't work like that for me. Connor Murphy, professional insomniac."

Connor held out a hand.

Evan looked again at the posted rules. The very first thing on the list was not to make physical contact with the other patients. "The very first thing on the list is not to make physical contact with the other patients," he said.

"Eh, no one's looking."

"No offense," he said, taking a seat next to Connor, "but I'm not going to risk it."

"Ah, a stickler. Haven't seen a stickler since Alana."

"What happened to Alana?"

"She got out of here quick. Did everything right. Convinced them she'd turn herself around. Not sure if she convinced me."

"Seventy-two hours?"

"Don't know. She was here when I got here. Two weeks ago… today?" He looked up at the whiteboard schedule, which also had the date in bright red. "Yesterday. Alright, it's taken you too long, what's your name and trade?"

"Evan Hansen?" he said uncertainly. "Forest ranger?"

Connor brightened. "You're a forest ranger? And you still tried to kill yourself?"

"I didn't try to kill myself," said Evan, almost robotically.

"Oh, an accident like me, then?"

"Yeah, I fell out of a tree."

"I overdosed on heroin. Really, we're the same, you and me," said Connor, seeing the shock on Evan's face.

"I think we're pretty different," said Evan.

"We both had our passions, they nearly killed us, and now we're stuck here with a bunch of morons who think we're suicidal. Sound right?"

Evan shook his head. "I wouldn't even know where to get heroin."

"Well, if you find out, let me know," said Connor, "and I'll tell you if I see any trees. Hey, that's kind of pathetic." He pointed to Evan's cast. "Looks like you've got no friends."

"I don't think I do," said Evan.

"Well, that makes two of us."

He picked up a marker from the table - there were many, for some reason - and, making sure not to actually touch Evan, spelled out his name on the cast in massive letters. He put the cap back on, set the marker down, and instantly fell asleep on Evan's shoulder. Evan leapt up immediately so as not to break the first rule and found somewhere else to sit.


	2. Chapter 2

They came around with menus asking what everybody wanted for breakfast, like this was some bougie hotel and they were all honored guests, except the options were limited to three choices, only one of which was vegetarian.

They made you eat breakfast, according to Connor, who'd been asleep during ordering but had no complaints about what he was brought. "There's anorexics in here, too, and people sad enough to starve themselves. They watch us and make sure we eat. But when it's 2 AM and I want dinner, there's radio silence."

"The food staff probably goes home at night," said Evan, but he didn't see why they couldn't save him a plate.

Jared, the roommate, took a seat next to Evan with his tray of breakfast. "Either you're a vegetarian or a quick eater, because there is no bacon on that plate, and the bacon is the best part. I see you've met Connor."

"I'm a vegetarian," said Evan.

"Connor's one of those people who's sucked dick for meth."

"Jared Kleinman, you are a man of little tact. Implied homophobia is so 2006, and while I've never done meth, suffice it to say there are worse ways to get it."

Evan concluded immediately that Connor was gay. He liked boys. He had to. Straight people didn't talk like that. Evan had to communicate to Connor that he knew this and that it was okay without setting off any alarm bells in Jared.

"Yeah, you can suck dick for free and it's fine."

See, that was the wrong answer, in hindsight.

"Evan, do you have something you want to share with the class?" asked Jared.

"Nope," he said. "I'm going to shut up now."

-

"So you're obviously gay," said Connor to Evan quietly during a mid-morning showing of The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

"I don't know," said Evan, "but then again, I am the most unsure person I have ever met."

"I'm obviously gay, if it helps," said Connor. "If that makes it easier."

Evan didn't know what Connor meant by this.

"Look, tree boy, if you're not feeling it, I don't know what to tell you."

"Oh, you're hitting on me," said Evan. "In a mental hospital where we're both doing time because they think we're suicidal, you're hitting on me."

"Yes."

"That's moving quickly, I just met you."

"Eh, almost dying gives you a new perspective on life."

"Well, I don't know what your plan is, given the no touching rule."

"Well, my primary plan is fuck the no touching rule, but I suppose you're against that, so my backup plan is Operation Pushing Daisies. Y'ever see Pushing Daisies, Evan?"

"No."

"Great show. Main guy's hot. Kristen Chenoweth's on it. Anyway, the guy and the girl can't touch because magic and bullshit. But they find workarounds."

Connor placed his hand on Evan's cast.

"It wasn't touching you this morning, so it's not touching you now, right?"

Oh, god, he liked Connor. He couldn't fall for someone in a mental hospital. He wouldn't. Not someone he'd only spoken a few words to. Not someone he'd met this morning. Not a heroin addict who couldn't keep his eyes open.

But with Connor's hand on his cast, it felt like everything was going to be alright, and he had to chase that feeling.

"This is fine," he said, feeling precisely like a dog in a burning room.

-

Connor fell asleep after the movie. Something about the lights coming back on triggered a sleep response in that backwards brain of his. So while he lay passed out in his bed, Jared and Evan did a sharing circle.

"Hi, I'm Jared Kleinman," he said, "and I tried to kill myself. But I'm learning, the longer I'm here, that that's not the answer. All that brings you is more pain and suffering. The answer is succeeding in killing yourself."

"You don't believe that," said the therapist. "You're just saying that to get a rise out of people, and it's not funny."

"I thought it was," said Jared.

"What are some coping strategies you use? Things that make you feel better when nothing else does?"

Jared sighed. "I like going for drives, long drives with no real purpose, with the windows down so I can feel the wind in my hair." He said this in a tone that indicated complete bullshit, like he needed an answer that they wanted to hear.

"Very good, Jared. Evan, what about you?"

"I like trees," he said. "I like identifying trees, climbing trees, protecting trees-"

"How do you protect trees?"

"I'm a forest ranger. A lot of my work is protecting trees. If the branch had been cut properly from the tree I was climbing yesterday, I wouldn't be here, so tree care is very important."

"Evan, I know this is going to sound corny, but the first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one."

"I didn't try to kill myself, okay?" Evan wished he had Connor here to stabilize him. "I just fell. I was clumsy, and I fell, and I won't do it again. Jared informs me I wasn't even high enough to kill myself, so why does everyone think that?"

"I think it's best you take some time away from the group. Can you take him, Sarah?"

A nurse at the back of the room took Evan by the arm. "Come on, Evan, let's get you calmed down."

Evan wasn't even that angry, at the moment, but he was shaking like a leaf and with no one to calm him down it would quickly devolve.

"Here, our first stop is the meds station. Can I get Ativan for Evan Hansen? When's your birthday, honey?"

"July 25."

They asked that for identification. He held onto that. He was Evan Hansen and he was born July 25. The walls were grey and the floor was slippery and he was angry and afraid.

Before he knew it, he was in a padded cell with a radio playing pop music and a small window out.

"This is the Panic Room, you'll be safe in here," said the nurse.

The next twenty minutes blended together. Evan immediately turned off the radio. Music never helped his panic attacks. He did his best to calm down. He thought about his mom, who'd want him out as soon as possible. He thought about all those people in the sharing circle whose lives were falling apart. He thought mostly about Connor, who didn't deserve to be here, who'd latched onto Evan for support. Was he going to be able to be there? He'd be gone in three days - well, at least four, now, after this scene. A hospital was no place to build a relationship. But right now he wanted to talk to Connor more than anything in the world. Connor was the only one who listened.

"Are you feeling better, Evan?" asked the nurse.

Evan nodded quietly and rejoined the sharing circle.


	3. Chapter 3

"What's your personal item?" asked Connor over a coloring session.

"Personal item?"

"Yeah, like, they let you keep one thing they don't think you can kill yourself with."

"I mean, they let me have my note."

"Your suicide note?" asked Jared.

"Obviously not," said Connor.

"The note I wrote to myself yesterday. My therapist tells me to do one every day - oh, I totally forgot today, does anyone have a pencil?"

A nurse offered Evan a pencil cautiously. It was dull. Of course it was. He scribbled down the following:

"Dear Evan Hansen, Today's going to be a good day, and here's why: you're leaving soon, and in the meantime, you've got Connor."

He folded up the new note and put it in his pocket. "Now I've got two notes."

"Well, that's not fair," said Jared. "I've just got a stuffed animal from when I was a kid. My mom thought I'd like it. Shows how well she knows me."

"I've got my sneakers," said Connor. "They took the laces, and they tore them open looking for drugs, but they couldn't see why I couldn't have them."

"Why sneakers?" asked Evan.

"Semblance of normalcy," said Connor. "Feels right having a pair of sneakers by my bed. You're coming out of the lines, there."

Evan looked down at his coloring for the first time in a while. He'd started bleeding out of the lines of the flower patch he was working on. "Haven't colored since I was a kid."

"Nobody fucking has," said Jared, whose coloring looked professionally done despite being in eight-pack crayon.

"My sister does," said Connor. "Says it relaxes her. She's terrible, though."

In through the door rolled a new patient, and Evan found his eyes turning and staring, against his better judgment. He knew he wouldn't want anyone staring at him.

On the gurney was a young woman with bandaged arms and a look of exhaustion on her face.

"Alana's back," said Jared.

"Alana?" asked Connor, wheeling his head around. "God, she slit her wrists. At least that one's easy to make look like an accident."

"You can make any suicide attempt look like an accident. Falling?" He pointed to Evan. "You're klutzy. Drowning? Not as good a swimmer as you thought."

"What about pills?" asked Connor. "No one trips and falls face-first onto an open bottle of acetaminophen."

"You wanted attention. Never thought it could kill you."

"Guns," said Evan.

Jared laughed emptily. "You screw up killing yourself with a gun, you're a fucking vegetable. You don't need an excuse."

"Hanging," offered Connor.

"It was a sex thing," said Jared.

"How'd you do it?" asked Evan, feeling emboldened by the fact that Jared had asked him the same.

"Walked in front of a moving car. This one falls under the catch-all category of dumbass."

"Mainly because the car braked," said Connor.

"I'd be offended if that wasn't true," said Jared. "Walked in here without a scratch. Well, wheeled in here."

"You boys are still here?" asked Alana to Jared and Connor, sitting down at the coloring table. "You have got to start behaving."

"You've got to stop hitting arteries," said Connor.

"Alana Beck," said Alana, pointedly not extending a hand to Evan.

"Evan Hansen," said Evan.

"Good to have you back," said Jared.

"No, it's fucking not," said Alana. "You know, it's not so sunshine when you're a repeat offender. They try harder. They get you alone and make you really reflect on your life. My life is not the kind of thing I want to think about."

"Alana got a B once and it traumatizes her to this day," said Connor to Evan.

Evan was relieved to have someone else with anxiety join the party. Connor and Jared spoke freely, like they had nothing to lose. Evan and Alana recognized that there was still a lot on the line.

"I understand," said Evan. "I'm not a perfectionist, but I do know what it's like to work hard and not get what you want."

"Like jumping out of… a window?" she guessed tentatively.

"A tree. And I didn't jump," he clarified, "I fell."

"Yeah, you can drop that act around me."

"He's telling the truth," said Connor. "He doesn't have it in him to jump anyway."

Alana furrowed her brow, looking between Connor and the giant signature on Evan's cast, seeing how close the two of them were sitting. "Jared, can you go get me some ibuprofen, they won't let me have any."

"Anything for you, Alana," said Jared.

Alana leaned across the table as Jared walked away. "How long have you two been hooking up?" 

Evan coughed loudly.

"Sorry," said Alana, "that's just the only way Connor would believe you."

"It's his first day here," said Connor. "He's still following all the rules. From what I hear, though, he blew up during a sharing circle, is that true, Evan?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"So we're making progress, really," said Connor optimistically.

"It's like you want me to be stuck here longer," said Evan.

Connor feigned horror. "Oh, no, the cute boy that I like gets to spend more time with me, what a fucking catastrophe."

He thinks I'm cute, he thought.

He's trying to keep me here, he thought.

"Do you wanna sign the cast?" Evan asked Alana, thinking it looked awfully suspicious that Connor was the only one who'd signed.

"Sure," she said, signing it much smaller. "You should get everyone here to sign it."

Evan looked around at the crew of lost souls that populated the hospital, some of whom were more violent or less sane than others. "No, I think that's a bad idea."

"I'll sign," said Jared, slipping ibuprofen to Alana, and the topic of Evan and Connor was dropped. It wasn't that Jared couldn't know, it was just that he didn't, and that was fine. It was better. In case things escalated. In case. Not that they would, because Evan was following the rules, so he could leave as soon as possible, and everything would be fine.

Connor held Evan's cast under the table as they both colored with their free hands, and everything was fine.

Everything was fine, Evan told himself over the cacophony of voices in his head telling him the opposite.


	4. Chapter 4

They sent them to bed at nine, which was earlier than Evan went to bed. Normally, he'd sit up on his phone and watch YouTube or play video games until he got tired, but those weren't options here.

"For a place that's trying to get you not to kill yourself," said Jared, "there sure is nothing else to do."

That wasn't entirely true. They'd given Evan worksheets. He sat with a dull pencil in hand, trying to work out what he wanted to be when he grew up. He supposed a real, grown-up forest ranger wasn't out of the question. He knew he liked being out in the woods.

"Think you'll be out of here in seventy-two hours?" asked Jared.

"Probably not," said Evan. "They want me to confess to all these greater issues, you know? Like, I'm just an anxious kid. That's all."

"They want me to have fewer issues," said Jared. "Maybe we can trade or something."

"Maybe."

"Here, give me the pencil and one of your notes."

"Why?"

"I'll write my phone number on it. Plus this place's phone number. In case you get out first."

"Oh," said Evan. "You want me to call you?"

"Dude, you're already the best friend I've had in here. They keep giving me psychos as roommates."

"It's a mental hospital," said Evan, handing over the note from his pocket.

Jared took a moment, wrote down some numbers, then passed it back. "So you and Connor, huh?"

Evan closed his eyes. "I gave you the Connor note, didn't I?"

"You getting a piece of that drug-addict ass?"

"Look, nothing's happening. I need to get out of here. He's just… making it easier."

"Uh-huh. I'll bet you bacon you sleep with Connor before you leave here."

"That's not even possible - what do you mean, bet bacon?"

"I win, you order bacon with breakfast and give it to me. You win, I order the vegetarian breakfast the day you leave."

"This seems like very low stakes."

"If steaks were on the menu, I'd bet them, too. But they're not. Because this place sucks."

"Which is exactly why I'm not going to try to have sex with a patient and get my stay extended."

"Then the bet's on?"

Evan sighed. "Of course the bet's on."

-

Evan Hansen left the room as soon as the clock struck six, and there in the sitting room he found Connor again, bright-eyed as ever and walking around.

Evan took a seat and patted the space next to him absently. "How do you get out here so fast?"

"Maybe my clock's fast," he said. "Maybe the nurses don't mind me breaking curfew a few minutes early if it keeps me quiet…" He sat where Evan had indicated. "...which it does. Maybe I'm just secretly The Flash. All of these are possibilities."

Evan realized that the hand he had gestured with was not his broken hand.

Evan realized his hand was back to back with Connor's.

Evan pulled his hand up onto his lap.

"It's incidental," said Connor, incredulous at Evan. "What, they'll punish you every time you brush hands with someone? It's not like we're in solitary. You're gonna make contact."

"They'll catch us," said Evan.

"Dude, this staff is so gay-blind I could kiss you and they'd think I did it to start a fight. They're not gonna think anything of our hands sitting close to each other."

"Don't kiss me," said Evan, putting his hand back down next to Connor's.

Connor pouted. "You don't want me to kiss you?"

"I don't want to risk anything," said Evan. "I still want out of here. Don't you?"

"More than you know," said Connor, "which is why I'm careful."

"You," said Evan flatly. "Careful. I've known you for one day and I have seen no evidence of careful."

"Have you seen me chastised by the staff even once?"

"You went to bed at five."

"Other than that."

"No," Evan admitted.

"Because unlike Jared, and apparently you, I play the game to the best of my ability. It just so happens that my ability isn't all there."

"So you wouldn't kiss me anyway?"

"Oh, I'd kiss you. I'd just wait until the nurses turn their backs. I'm not an idiot."

Evan became inexplicably and undeniably emboldened. His anxiety took a backseat for the half a second it took him to say, "Do it."

Connor laughed, then stopped. "Oh, my god, you're serious."

The anxiety train pulled back into the station. "That was a bad idea. I take it back. I should never have said that. And now I look stupid in front of you. Great. That's exactly what I needed." Evan put his hand back on his lap, tapping nervously and avoiding eye contact with Connor.

"It's not a bad idea." Connor made a quick backtrack. "Well, the only problem is we're the only ones out here, so someone's always watching, even if they're not listening. To pull something like that off, we have to wait until other people are out here."

Evan pulled out his pencil and paper.

Dear Evan Hansen, he wrote. Today's going to be a good day, and here's why: I'm going to learn to be careful.

"Never been kissed?" asked Connor.

"Hmm?"

"You're seventeen-"

"Sixteen."

"You're gay-"

"Questionable."

"You're a nervous wreck-"

"Home run."

Connor looked at Evan funny. "Home run?"

"Yes, I have anxiety."

"So you've never been kissed."

"Your deductive skills are unparallelled," said Evan sarcastically.

"Inductive," corrected Connor.

"What?"

"And it's reasons like that I've also never been kissed," said Connor.

"Not the heroin?" asked Evan doubtfully as a nurse approached the two of them.

"You know, it all kind of blends together."


	5. Chapter 5

"Name and date of birth?" asked the nurse.

Evan had gotten really used to this question. The nurses asked it every time they came and checked vitals, which was roughly four times a day, and sometimes in the middle of the night. It was even on his bracelet in case he forgot, which was convenient, because during panic attacks he often did.

"Evan Hansen, July 25."

"That's coming up," said the nurse, placing a monitor on his finger and a blood pressure cuff around his arm.

It was six days away. "Yeah, my mom wants to do this big celebration, but I can't imagine having all those people around. It'd be like… well, it'd be like this place, but everyone just staring at me and talking to me and expecting me to have a good time."

"Well, if you're still here, you'll get a little cupcake with dinner, alright?"

"I won't be," said Evan, a little less confident than he would've been yesterday.

"Alrighty then, you keep up that good work and we'll see you out of here as soon as you're safe," said the nurse. "Your heart rate's awfully high, are you doing okay?"

"Yeah," said Evan, flushing a deep red. "It's nothing. Just anxiety."

"If there's ever anything you want to talk about, you know we've got therapists on staff all day."

"I'm fine," said Evan.

The nurse turned to Connor. "Name and date of birth?"

"Connor Murphy, December 22nd."

One of those kids that only got presents once a year, Evan thought.

"That's what you pity me for?" asked Connor, seeing the look on Evan's face.

"Connor, your heart rate is also very high. Are you nervous this morning?"

"It's not my fault you don't let me smoke here," said Connor, avoiding the eye contact Evan was trying to make.

The nurse sighed. "You are seventeen, Connor, they don't let you smoke anywhere. Have a good morning, you two."

"You smoke?" asked Evan. "That's so bad for you."

"Goddamn, Hansen, priorities."

Evan gritted his teeth and tried to deny just how much he'd liked being called Hansen. There was something about the way Connor said it, so caring but so dismissive, like he was a fucking moron but he was Connor's fucking moron.

"Is that really what gets you going?" asked Connor.

"Shut up," said Evan.

-

The day positively dragged. Jared and Alana couldn't place why Evan was so jumpy at breakfast. In the sharing circle, Evan couldn't even remember his favorite color (though he happened to be wearing his favorite blue striped polo, which should have been a hint) and stuttered in front of the crowd. Jared gave him hell for it between that and an emotions workshop, where they talked about remembering the last time you were happy and trying to hold onto it until the next time. The last time Evan was happy was in that tree - and even then, it was more calm than happy.

Finally, there was free time before lunch, during which distractions were found aplenty. Across the room, Jared and Alana were in a heated discussion with the floor nurse. The med student on duty was engaged in conversation with the meds desk clerk, and for a brief moment, the only remaining supervisor became involved in a hands-on fight that had broken out.

Connor seized his chance. He picked up a copy of Better Homes and Gardens to hold in front of their faces to avoid onlookers, held Evan's face in the other hand, and leaned in and kissed him.

And Evan Hansen had never felt a thrill like that in his entire life. The idea of being caught by the staff swirled together with the passion of kissing this handsome and charming near-stranger and left Evan dizzy.

"Damn," said Connor quietly.

"That bad?" asked Evan.

Connor hit him with the Better Homes and Gardens. "No, you dolt."

"Connor?" scolded the nearest nurse. "Do I need to put you in the panic room?"

"No, ma'am, sorry, Evan just said something really, really dumb and I overreacted."

"Apologize right now."

Connor turned to Evan and very sincerely said, "I'm sorry I hit you with a magazine."

"I think I'll get over it," said Evan, who was not at all injured by the hit, if a little dazed by the situation.

The nurse left them alone again.

"It's funny what they notice and what they don't," said Evan.

"That? That was me not being careful. They're going to watch us now. A little more closely than before."

"They can't be onto us from that," said Evan. "Can they?"

"Now they think I'm violent and you're inciting fights."

"For a hit with a magazine?" Evan asked incredulously.

"Yep. We'll have to be on our toes the next day or so."

Jared and Alana came back to join them. "What was that all about?"

"Evan kissed me and I hit him with a magazine," said Connor.

"Kinky," said Jared.

"What was your thing with the nurse?" asked Connor before Evan could elaborate on the situation.

"I'm too weak for kickball tonight, so we asked if Jared and I could hang back."

"They said yes," said Jared, "as long as we could get a med student to stay here with us. You know, so we don't kill ourselves."

"Or each other."

"Or hook up."

"Or destroy the place."

"All things we're likely to do," said Jared.

"You think I'd hook up with you?" asked Alana.

"You think I'd kill you?" asked Jared. "I was being facetious."

"Kickball?" said Evan.

"Yeah, they make us do sports every now and again," said Connor. "There's a gym in the next building."

The next building. They'd have to go outside. "This is the best thing that's happened to me all day."

"I'd hit you with the magazine again," said Connor, "if I wanted to get stuck in time-out."

-

"And that's dogwood… that's a red spruce, you can tell - oh, my god, that's an oak, I knew it, I knew they'd have oaks here!"


	6. Chapter 6

Evan woke up a little extra early the next day, eager to go out and meet Connor, but he didn't get the chance right away. At six o'clock, a nurse came into his room.

"Name and date of birth?"

"Evan Hansen, July 25."

"I thought you'd be up." She plugged on the heart monitor and blood pressure cuff. "You've got a family meeting this morning. Your mother's coming in at around eleven and we're discussing your plans to go home."

"Home?" asked Evan.

"You've been making progress here. We've seen drastic changes in you over the last two days. You've been smiling more. You didn't have a single panic attack yesterday. You've kept up those letters to yourself, right?"

Evan nodded.

"You even pitched for kickball with your good arm. You've become a real team player. We think if you keep this up, you could go home tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," said Evan quietly. "That's a ways off."

"Sooner than you think," said the nurse. "Good luck, Evan."

-

"They think I can go home tomorrow," said Evan to Connor in the sitting room, hands held back-to-back like the day before.

"That's great!" said Connor, though his voice betrayed some pain. "I mean, that's the goal, right?"

"Yeah, I mean, who'd wanna be stuck here?"

"You've got trees to get back to," said Connor.

"And a mom, and a job - assuming I have a job, still - and a smartphone…"

"Don't forget strings," said Connor, tugging at imaginary strings in his zip-up hoodie.

"I miss strings," said Evan.

-

The day passed… normally, as normally as a day in a mental hospital can pass. The sharing circle was about support networks, finding people who can stop you from hurting yourself when things get bad. It was supposed to be, like, your parents, and your guidance counselor, but Evan had a feeling his was Jared, Alana, and Connor. His dad, at least, was out ot the question, his mom didn't really understand, and what kind of psycho trusted their guidance counselor?

"Evan's making some real improvements," said the doctor to Evan's mom, who was crying. She was always crying. She always thought Evan was worse than he was.

"Is he going to be safe to come home today?" she asked, stifling a sniffle.

"We're gonna keep him one more night, but that's it. He's doing better. He really is."

-

Connor came into Evan's room late that night.

"What the hell are you doing?" hissed Evan, who'd been woken up by the noise. Jared remained fast asleep.

"I decided I want to be awake when you leave so I can say goodbye," he said, "which means I need a comforting place to sleep, and my room is currently occupied by the loudest snorer in history."

"Oh, my god, Connor, I'm so tired, nothing's gonna happen."

"I know. I just- being with you is enough," he concluded.

"You're asking to sleep with me."

"Yes."

"Well, fuck," said Evan, making room in his bed. "I'm already going home tomorrow, I don't know what I've got to lose."

Connor slid into Evan's uncomfortable, grey somehow-smaller-than-twin bed and wrapped his arms around him. Evan felt - well, he felt tired, and annoyed, but he felt comforted, like things were gonna work out okay.

Connor fell asleep within the minute. Evan found himself drifting off a few minutes later.

He dreamed he was back in the tree. Forty feet above the ground, holding a perfectly sturdy branch. This time, he held tight, and he kept climbing, until he reached the very top of the tree, where he sat and felt the sun on his face.

He awoke with a start, accidentally shaking Connor from what was likely the most peaceful sleep he'd had in years.

"Connor?"

"Yes?"

"I didn't fall out of the tree."

"I know, dipshit. You needed time, so I gave it to you. Common decency."

"The dipshit thing wasn't necessary," said Evan.

"It wasn't necessary for you to be a dipshit," said Connor.

Evan supposed this was fair. He wrote down his phone number on the back of a note, the note he'd written the day he jumped out of the tree. "Call me when you need me, okay? I won't be far."

Connor tucked the note into his pants pocket. "I'd better run," he said. "They won't question me out this late, but if they catch me here, you're in trouble, too."

"Hey, Connor?"

"Yes, drama king?"

"Stay careful."

"I always do."

The next morning, when Evan had his things all packed to leave, he ordered, very much against his will, extra bacon with his breakfast.

And Connor did call, a couple times a day, then once a day, then not at all for about three days, until Evan got a text from an unknown number.

"Meet me at A La Mode in Kensington on Wednesday at 2:30. Hope your arm's feeling better, because we've got some trees to climb."


End file.
